Dinner at Jack's
by stevieLUVSAlex
Summary: The title speaks for itself, however enter... a little romance... cold beer down your back... and you have Dinner at Jack's, or at least Sam does. :


**Hi all… I used some dialogue from the TV series… infringement unintended… these characters belong to the writers and crew of Stargate…**

**Please R&R **

**S**am was suddenly aware of her pounding heart. It was laughable that dinner at Jack's place would cause her so much anxiety, when she considered her job at the SGC, risking her life on a daily basis to rid the world of Alien invasions and evil adversaries who have made it their lives mission to take over the world.

As she knocked on the door, she stood back waiting for Jack, her hands clenched at her sides, as if awaiting the details for a new mission assignment. It would take some getting used to, it wasn't easy for Sam carter to relax around Jack O'Neal, not when it had taken her eight years to master the control of her own limbs whenever the man was within close proximity of her.

She recalled the last conversation she had with Jack, over the phone, the day before.

"_How 'bout Monday morning," Sam had asked._

"_I have a thing with someone from the CIA," had been his reply. "Johnson someone or other it's about that whole Kinsey thing."_

"_So any big plans for the weekend?" she had teased._

"_Oh, yeah, BIG. HUGE!"_

_Sam recalled the butterflies in her stomach as she'd answered. "Me neither." _

"_What are you talking about? I just walked in with a whole handful of ingredients for my famous Omelet."_

"_Famous huh?" she'd smiled. "What's in it?"_

"_Eggs."_

"_I don't think that qualifies as a recipe." _

"_Don't kid yourself, there's a secret ingredient. I can't tell you what it is or I'd have to shoot you." His voice had dripped with humor._

_Sam had laughed. "Its beer isn't it?" _

"_Carter…" he hadn't finished his sentence. "Let me call you back."_

_Sam had grinned knowingly. "I knew it."_

She felt like she'd been standing on the porch of his log cabin for a decade, and she began to believe he wasn't home. She sighed heavily and tried again, her hands knocking rapidly on the dark pine wood of the cabin door. Her eyes glanced around at the open space that surrounded Jack's home. The trees went on for miles, and a few meters from the cabin, was a dock. A smile enveloped her face as she recalled sitting side by side on the dock with Jack, in attempt to catch fish that didn't exist.

The door swung open and Sam snapped around to look at him. Jack smiled as he held the door open. She stepped inside, her smile nervous as she made her way through to the living room.

"You look nice," he observed. "Want a beer?" he offered as he opened the fridge and retrieved one for himself.

Sam nodded and Jack took a second bottle from the shelf, before closing the door and making his way to the couch. He gestured at the empty seat, the bottles still gripped in his hands, and Sam lowered herself down, sitting up straight.

"Relax Carter," Jack teased grinning at her in that way that made her stomach drop two floors. "I'm not going to grope you."

Sam felt herself blush.

"Unless you want me, too," he shrugged.

"I er, I…" she stammered trying to piece a sentence together. Her mind was blank. Jack had never been as shy as Sam was, but he had respected the boundaries of their relationship, and she had admired that, as hard as it had been at times.

Sam had known her place with Jack at the SGC, she understood it, and she was comfortable. But this experience was something entirely new and different for her… for him. It would take some getting used to.

"Carter," Jack laid a hand on her shoulder and the electricity that passed between them was strong. Sam flinched. "It was a joke. We're just having dinner…"

Sam nodded. Jack flipped the lid off the beer bottle and handed it to her. She took a swig and held onto it tight with both hands, as if it were a shield of protection against the emotions that were currently running through her.

"You're going to love my Eggs!" he stated matter-of-factly, leaning back against the soft fabric of the couch.

Closing her eyes, only for a moment, she felt herself relax; reminiscing that this was what she had waited a lifetime for. This was the missing piece in her relationship with Pete.

Jack was what she wanted in her life. He was what her heart had ached for before she had even known of his existence. She opened her eyes and looked at him, a smile creeping across her face. Had he always been this beautiful? Those warm brown eyes that looked at her with admiration and respect.

With a warm smile and a gentle touch, he wiped the strand of blonde hair that fell across her forehead. The feel of his touch was overpowering, and she found her hands with a mind of their own, as they moved to tangle her fingers behind his head.

Jack sprang back from the chair in shock surprise, causing Sam to jump in fright. Had she done something wrong? His eyes were wide with alarm when she had to courage to look back at him. Her face turned crimson with embarrassment.

Sam did not handle these types of situations well. She avoided them when possible, and now she remembered why.

"Cold…" Jack stammered.

"What is?" she asked pathetically.

"Beer… you poured…. down… back… cold."

Sam suddenly laughed. The absurdity of the situation was alarmingly humorous. It was a typical cliché for a moment she had waited so many years for.

She lowered her head suppressing another laugh.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "You think this is funny?"

She sniggered. "A little, Sir, yes…"

"Oh, is that right?" he rose from the chair and took her hand, pulling her to her feet without warning. "Try this," he took the beer that was still gripped in his own hand, and poured it slowly down the back of her red dress. Her eyes amplified as the feel of the liquid drizzled down her back. She let out a yelp. Jack stood back, grinning to himself, a look of content plastered across his face.

"That was…" she stuttered.

"Cold!" he added.

"Mean!" she barked. Her eyes danced with humor, and he knew that she was not upset by his actions.

"Just breaking the ice," he shrugged. "Now you can relax."

"I'm cold," she pointed out, her teeth chattering to back up her comment. "How can I relax when I smell like beer and I'm COLD?"

"I can fix that," Jack exited the room, and within seconds he returned to the loungeroom and handed an over-sized t-shirt to Sam. She examined it, and smiled.

"You expect me to wear this?" she smiled.

"Yeah," he frowned. "Why not?"

"It has the Simpson's on it?"

"Homer's awesome!" he cried defensively.

Sam rolled her eyes, and took her cue to leave.

"You can get changed in the spare room, on the left, second door down!" he called out.

Sam cleaned herself up, and used some abandoned deodorant that lay on the dressing table in the bedroom. Her mind wondered to the owner. An ex-girlfriend? It had a nice smell to it, familiar, as she breathed in the tropical scent. It was almost- Sam smiled as she realized why the smell was so familiar. It had been her choice of anti-perspirant a few months back, but the company who sold it had stopped making it. Was it a coincidence that Jack had the same scent she used, in the spare room? Sam had to laugh.

She pulled the t-shirt over her head, and examined herself in the mirror briefly. The Simpsons t-shirt fell below her knees. It had a scent of its own, as she breathed it in, a manly smell of spice that had always been Jack.

Sam hugged the t-shirt against herself.

A moment later she emerged from the bedroom, her clothes in hand. She found Jack in the kitchen, busing himself on the counter, chopping up vegetables. "Are you hungry?" he asked gently, his eyes lingering longer than he intended.

She nodded with a shy smile, dropping the clothes on the floor beneath her feet, and taking a seat on the bench stool.

Sam took a cutting knife from the block on the bench, and took the initiative to begin chopping the tomato. Jack watched her with ease, slicing the bacon into pieces.

"I made you some dessert," Jack smiled cheekily raising an eyebrow as he headed for the fridge.

Sam frowned from her seat. She hated surprises.

Jack grinned pulling a bowl from the fridge and sliding it under her nose. As the realization of what the dessert was, a giggle escaped her lips. "Blue Jell-O," she said shaking her head.

"It's your favorite!" he stated.

"Yes," she nodded. "It is. It looks great, Sir."

"Yeah, well… one more thing," he looked slightly annoyed.

Sam waited.

"Isn't it about time, you called me, Jack?"

Sam smiled. "Okay, call me, Sam…"

Neither of them said a word.

Dinner was served, and enjoyed as they sat conversing in a way that was different from their usual dialogue; personal information was uttered between them. Shortly, after dinner they returned to the loungeroom.

"We never did watch STARWARS!" Jack teased waving the DVD under her eyes.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, fine."

Jack dropped the DVD on the marble table next to the couch, and looked back at her, a nervous smile on his face. "Let's try this again… no beer," he teased.

Sam nodded, unable to smile, she was too tense.

He pulled at the fabric of his Simpson's t-shirt and guided her forward, and as his mouth pressed against hers she was over powered by a strong sense of something real. This was what her heart had been missing. And as she parted her lips beneath his, she knew with absolute certainty, these emotions could not be generated by any other man.

"Does this count as groping," he murmured against her mouth.

"Sir," she whispered.

A soft moan escaped his lips.

"Shut up!" she said pressing herself against him as she resumed the kiss. Fireworks exploded. The wait had been worth it.


End file.
